The END
by DanceLikeNoOnesThere
Summary: A story about a girl trying to live, when everyone wants her to die... *One Shot*


**A/N: Okay short story i wrote for my languge arts class. it was kind of like a combination of a few stories so i decided to put on here. Hope you like it! :)**

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The golden sunrise faded into the sapphire haze of morning on the last day of my end. It was just as predicted; a cool winter morning trying to use the last rays autumn to melt the fallen icy snow that lay undisturbed on the hidden grass. I waited silently, watching my life tick by as the sun moved further west. I couldn't believe how fast this day had come. I always knew I would die today, but I still had the smallest of hopes that I wouldn't be killed by the murderers.

The murderers would shout, "Shay Black, the girl that died for you to live," at my funeral. The crowd would stare at my lifeless body in respect, and then forget about the person in the glossy white coffin that permits them to live forever. I wouldn't truly be gone, though. I would live inside the bodies of everyone who picked me to die. They were ones who murder the innocent for the evil to live forever.

I stared down at my bruised and bare feet wondering if it would be different without me here. There was no one to care that I would be gone or to clear my belongings, though; I had neither. The few things I owned were the plain clothes on my back and a small rag doll of one of the victims that my mother had given me before she and my father died. They had been missed, although their one and only child would not.

I stood up from the icy snow I had been sitting in and brushed the snow off my gray shorts and faded blue tank top; the cold no longer fazed me as it had when I had a home. I stepped back and stared at the growing trees in the distance. I took a few steps toward the forest, before being reminded of the last victim of the murderers. He had had no hope after running away from them; not even a slim chance that he might live. He was caught and tortured instead of being poisoned peacefully. I could still live if I surrendered, but the chances were significantly minute.

I heard the faint hum of a whimpering puppy and knew they were here for me. The murderers would come from behind and tie a rope around my waist leaving me immobilized. I would be taken to a place under the stage where I would be poisoned and later presented in front of the crowd only to fall dead. I would be giving a longer life span to those that should have died many years ago.

My parents had both been killed by the murderers; I suppose that's why they didn't come for me normally. The murderers came from above; knocking me fiercely, face first into the hard frozen snow. The murderers tied a rope around my waist in one swift motion; flipping me to face a gruesome looking, stout man with an eye patch and curly green hair. I winced at the sight of him and held my breath at the stench of his breath when he spoke.

"You ready to die?" He chortled unconcerned with the terrified and confused expression on my face. This wasn't what the murderers were supposed to look like. They were supposed to be perfection, kind and clean, not repulsive and horrible. Why were things different? Why was _this_ man sent out to catch me?I scowled at the man until his cackle had stopped, unable to do anything else. He growled at me, before lifting me over his burley shoulder and explaining to one of the other murderers there how to deal with an uncooperative victim.

I wasn't one to stay silent while being held against my will, but I knew if I resisted I would have much horrible consequences. I was quiet until arriving in front of the short, unattractive, brown stage. I gasped and watched as one of the men open the door leading backstage with a small golden key that he held tightly in his hand. This wasn't what I remembered the stage looking like, but the men that were carrying me to my death didn't look like what they were supposed to either.

I arrived in a small padded room by being thrown down a cold metal shoot. I was no longer immobilized by the ropes that bond my hands and waist, but still incapable of moving from the miniscule room. I had no idea what to think, only that the darkness was overwhelming.

A faint light reached me after a moment and became increasingly brighter. I could only hear faint sounds from the distance as my eyes adjusted to the sunshine, but I knew I would be killed soon in front of the crowd in the blinding light. I glanced at the clean, smiling man that I had always known as the murderer's appearance, before realizing it was the same man that had brought me here. The man had dyed his hair again, cleaned himself, and taken off his eye patch revealing a perfectly intact eyeball. Why had he changed his true appearance to that horrid disgraceful mess?

Realization crossed over my face as I stared into the eyes of people that voted me to die. His true appearance was the horrible man with green hair, and the murderers were neither kind nor helpful in any way. Everyone in this place was a fake just like the willingness of the victims that they chose before me. They wouldn't have wanted to die and that's why they ran from this place full of terrible people. I knew now that I didn't want to die either, but I had no way to get out of this disaster now. I would be dead like my parents in just a few moments.

The man gave me a silver bottle announcing the next victim in over fourteen years. The crowd stared, waiting for me to drink the red liquid inside the bottle. I stared back, before having the bottle shoved in my mouth. The bottle crashed to the ground, as I fell backward into the pure white coffin. The cover closed over my head and I was silenced in a dizzy muddle.

Wasn't I supposed to be dead? I couldn't think clearly, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to think if I was dead. I pushed on the hard wood that surrounded me and the top opened easily. I gazed at the new world that I had almost been taken out of. The streets were filled with wizened bodies that were a mere moment from dying. What had happened here? I wasn't dead that's what. I picked up the half-drunken bottle and knew why I wasn't gone; you had to drink the whole bottle to die.

I stepped down from the stage and watched the streets that I had lived on for so many years soak with the blood of the dead. I had killed everyone almost instantaneously. The people that ignored me or insulted me were dead and I wasn't. A faint smile crossed my face as I took out the rag doll from my pocket. I hugged the small doll before dropping it and letting it drown in the scarlet blood that pooled around me. Never again would someone die so others could live and for everyone to live on my own time. Unfortunately, there was no one left now to save from these horrors, but the past victims would be happy for this occurrence. Although, I would be grateful for my entire life that I didn't die.


End file.
